


However This Humble Subject Could Remain at Your Side

by Sath



Category: Original Work
Genre: 15th Century, Fake Marriage, Loyalty Kink, M/M, Ming Dynasty, On the Run, Sharing a Bed, light sprinkling of intrigue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24499753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sath/pseuds/Sath
Summary: Forced by the machinations of his own son, the Emperor flees the capital with only one loyal guardsman to protect him.
Relationships: Sensible But Lonely Emperor/Trustworthy and Secretly Devoted Imperial Guardsman
Comments: 58
Kudos: 183
Collections: Original Characters & Original Works Flash Exchange May 2020





	However This Humble Subject Could Remain at Your Side

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nothingbutregret](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingbutregret/gifts).



> This fic takes place very loosely in fantasy Ming Dynasty China. There are some language notes at the end.

Unable to find work, Qiang Haifeng was forced to beg. He was hungry and ashamed. People kept passing him by in the market, looking at him with pity and sometimes, gave him some coins. A child like him had snuck off to hand him a bun. Since his parents had died, Qiang Haifeng hadn’t had a moment of feeling full.

A young man, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, stopped in front of Qiang Haifeng. The man was richly dressed, with a sharp-eyed servant holding an umbrella over him to keep out the sun. He was beautiful too, in a way that made Qiang Haifeng feel grubbier than ever. Not a speck of dust was on his clothes. What could this young master want with someone like him?

“How old are you?” asked the young master.

“Twelve,” Qiang Haifeng mumbled.

“Where are your parents?” 

“Dead.”

The young master clicked his tongue. “Would you like to have somewhere to live?”

Qiang Haifeng’s throat went dry. The servant glared at Qiang Haifeng and said, “Your Highness—”

The young master raised his hand. “Shh, I’m in disguise. Would you like that?” he said to Qiang Haifeng. “You wouldn’t be spoiled. You can be raised in the Imperial Bodyguards and then, when you’re old enough, you can protect me.”

“Are you—are you the Crown Prince?”

The prince, Ji Cong, laughed and held a finger to his lips. “Honestly, everyone is determined to unmask me today.”

* * *

Over twenty years had passed since Qiang Haifeng had been on the streets, but he never got the chance to serve Ji Cong himself. By the time he was old enough to officially join the Imperial Bodyguards, he was assigned to Ji Cong’s son, then just a toddler. Qiang Haifeng rarely ever saw Ji Cong, catching glimpses of him only at official functions. While Qiang Haifeng would never forget Ji Cong’s kindness, he was certain Ji Cong already had.

After Ji Cong’s ascension to the throne, the realm experienced a stability that hadn’t been seen for generations. His rule was marked by wisdom and good sense—though Qiang Haifeng could have predicted that from the moment he’d seen Ji Cong in the market. Ji Cong’s eldest son, however…

“Royal Father,” said Crown Prince Ji Zhi, kneeling before the throne, “I implore you, please reconsider your decision not to choose an Empress. It’s been years.”

“Zhi-er,” Ji Cong replied. “I’m surprised. You already have three brothers to fight with. Why risk gaining another one to jostle for the throne after I die? Or perhaps even before it.”

“I am only concerned for Royal Father’s happiness. My brothers are all precious to me, and I would welcome another,” Ji Zhi said. That was a lie; Qiang Haifeng had been privy to the Crown Prince’s fits of paranoia that his title would be passed to one of his younger brothers.

Ji Cong’s lips quirked into something not quite a smile. Qiang Haifeng hadn’t seen him so close in a long time. Age had hardly touched Ji Cong, besides a few prematurely gray hairs. They were probably his sons’ fault.

“Are you the only one so concerned for my happiness?” Ji Cong asked. “What about the scholars of the Imperial College? Or is it the nobility who are kept awake at night, worrying about me?”

“Royal Father, please forgive me, but it looks strange for the Emperor to go unmarried, and even without concubines. Aren’t you lonely?”

“If my going unmarried is the problem…” Ji Cong rose to his feet, his eyes searching the room. “I’ll marry him,” he said, pointing at Qiang Haifeng. “Unless he’s already married?” Ji Cong said. “Are you already married?”

Qiang Haifeng shook his head while his mind struggled to catch up with what he’d just heard.

Ji Zhi’s whole face went red. “My _guard_?” he spluttered.

The room was spinning around Qiang Haifeng. He couldn’t dare touch Ji Cong’s royal person, let alone ascend to the level of being—what? Qiang Haifeng couldn’t be a replacement Empress.

“Why not?” Ji Cong said lightly. “I don’t want any more children. He seems trustworthy enough. Healthy. A potential light in my old age.”

Ji Zhi pressed his forehead to the floor. “Your son apologizes for provoking Royal Father in this way. I’ll never mention marriage again.”

“Do you think I wasn’t serious?” Ji Cong asked.

Ji Zhi looked up, seeming as lost as Qiang Haifeng.

“I’m going out to the courtyard,” Ji Cong said, turning away from Ji Zhi. He gestured to Qiang Haifeng. “Come with me, my betrothed. We should speak.”

Qiang Haifeng was too disciplined to reveal his shock as he followed Ji Cong. As Ji Cong’s heavy court robes slowed him down, Qiang Haifeng was forced to take smaller steps. When they reached the courtyard, the sun had come out after several days of clouds; Ji Cong genuinely smiled. It reminded Qiang Haifeng of the laughing prince who’d saved him.

Ji Cong sent everyone else away, declaring it “an intimate moment between future spouses.” Had the Emperor taken leave of his senses? Qiang Haifeng truly wasn’t worthy of marrying Ji Cong—he felt close to coughing up blood just at the thought. Ji Cong looked closely at Qiang Haifeng, seeming too near even though they were standing decorously apart. Qiang Haifeng kept his gaze downcast. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a eunuch wringing his hands before finally running forward.

“Your Majesty!” the eunuch said, opening up an umbrella to hold it over Ji Cong’s head. “Please, think of the sun. You’ll burn.”

“Thank you,” Ji Cong replied, then plucked the umbrella from the eunuch’s hands. “You can go.”

The eunuch retreated, leaving Qiang Haifeng alone with the Emperor. Ji Cong rested the umbrella’s shaft against his shoulder. There was something coquettish about the way he was holding it, and Qiang Haifeng’s eyes were drawn to the curve of Ji Cong’s lips. Qiang Haifeng’s thoughts were determined to careen between respectful and lecherous, apparently.

“I’m not going to actually marry you,” Ji Cong said.

Qiang Haifeng barely held back a sigh of relief. But there was an insolent vein of disappointment in it, too.

“It’s just a gambit,” Ji Cong added. “A planned stumble, to expose the men trying to push me.”

“Why are you telling this to someone as lowly as myself, Your Majesty?” What Qiang Haifeng couldn’t say was: why are you revealing this to a man serving the first among the people who want to push you?

“Because some years ago, I remember sending a boy to join the Imperial Bodyguards.”

“Your Majesty recognized me?” Qiang Haifeng could hardly believe it. He’d been a filthy, scrawny little thing back then.

Ji Cong smiled again. On him, the expression was starting to have a devastating effect on Qiang Haifeng’s heart. “Yes,” Ji Cong said, “but ah, I never learned your name?”

“Qiang Haifeng.”

“How very soothing,” Ji Cong said. “I trust that you won’t tell my son that I’m anything other than a madman who’s decided to dishonor the country by marrying a commoner who can’t give me heirs.”

“I will not.”

Ji Cong walked away, back to his attendants and the shade of the palace. He handed off the umbrella and spared Qiang Haifeng one last look, an unreadable expression on his face. Perhaps he was wondering if Qiang Haifeng would keep his word. Not everyone would, twenty years later. But it was in Qiang Haifeng’s nature to be as loyal as a dog to Ji Cong.

The Crown Prince was waiting for him by his carriage. Seeming shaken, Ji Zhi invited Qiang Haifeng in to sit with him.

“Are you staying in the palace now?” Ji Zhi asked.

“No, Your Highness.”

Ji Zhi knocked on the roof to get the driver to start. “What did he have to say to you in the courtyard?”

“He was just talking about poetry,” Qiang Haifeng replied.

“Truly?”

“Your Highness, I would never lie to you.”

Ji Zhi said, “That’s right; I used to not even be able to reach your knees.” He flicked his folding fan open, clearly suffering from the summer heat. “Does this mean I’ll have to call you ‘Royal Father’ too soon?”

“I would prefer that to ‘Royal Mother,’ if you would be so kind.”

Ji Zhi snorted. “You don’t seem pleased with the match.”

“This humble subject will obey the Emperor’s commands.”

“As do we all.”

* * *

Qiang Haifeng was posted outside Ji Zhi’s door. His usual guard for the night was dismissed—probably for not being trustworthy enough. Ji Zhi was visited by a few powerful noblemen, who spoke to him for over a shichen in hushed voices. But not hushed enough. One of the nobles was a bit deaf.

“Can I count on your support?” Ji Zhi repeated for the third time.

“Yes, yes of course,” the noble replied. “We can act tomorrow. Some of the ministers—they’ll assist with declaring His Majesty’s madness.”

The nobility had not approved of the Emperor’s tax reforms. Ji Zhi must have recruited them to his cause months ago, for them to be ready so quickly now.

“I wouldn’t be doing this,” Ji Zhi said, “if my father were well.”

There were murmurs of agreement. “This is for the good of the country.”

Qiang Haifeng impatiently planned while waiting for the nobles to file back out of the room. He knew Ji Zhi wouldn’t be sleeping tonight, so he would have to risk being discovered leaving his post. Hopefully, he and Ji Cong would be well away by that time. Qiang Haifeng left for his room as soon as Ji Zhi was alone.

He changed out of his uniform and into plain clothes, then rushed to the palace. The night guards were easily knocked out along the way. Despite the urgency, Qiang Haifeng still hesitated when he arrived at the Emperor’s door. Was he really so bold as to disturb Ji Cong and try to spirit him off into the night?

As he opened the door, Qiang Haifeng supposed he was.

Ji Cong was asleep. His hair was fanned out beneath him, one hand above the quilt, his slender fingers curled. Ji Cong was frowning and his brows were furrowed. Qiang Haifeng wasn’t surprised to learn that an emperor’s rest wasn’t peaceful, although seeing that sort of expression on a pretty face made it… rather cute. Swallowing, Qiang Haifeng reached out to gently nudge Ji Cong’s shoulder.

It didn’t work. Ji Cong turned on his side and seemed to fall even deeper asleep. Qiang Haifeng was forced to shake him. Ji Cong woke with a start, his eyes widening with surprise until he recognized Qiang Haifeng.

“Isn’t it a little early to come to sleep with me? We’re not even married yet,” Ji Cong mumbled.

“The Crown Prince is preparing to depose you tomorrow.”

“That soon?” Ji Cong sat up. “I thought I’d at least have a day. He’s always been impatient, though. And you rushed all the way here to warn me?”

Qiang Haifeng nodded. “We need to flee the city. Do you have anywhere to go?”

Ji Cong hopped out of bed. “I anticipated this. General Shen is waiting about a day and a half’s ride from here. We’ll see how my son fares without the army to bring to heel. I just need to get dressed, then we can leave.”

Qiang Haifeng realized that he’d been in such a rush, he’d forgotten to bring something ordinary for Ji Cong to wear. But Ji Cong had thought of that as well—he opened his wardrobe and pulled out clothes suited to a merchant. Qiang Haifeng turned his back the moment Ji Cong started to change.

“Could you,” Ji Cong said after an unusually long time had passed, “help me put up my hair?”

Qiang Haifeng turned around to see Ji Cong struggling with a bun, half of his hair slipping out. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

“I’ve never had to do it myself before.”

Qiang Haifeng’s fingers felt clumsy as he gathered Ji Cong’s hair up and tried not to tug too hard as he arranged it into a bun. Ji Cong’s hair was very fine and kept sliding through his fingers. At last, Qiang Haifeng pushed in the unornamented pin to hold everything in place. His eyes were drawn to Ji Cong’s bare nape, and the beauty mark at the base of his neck. Qiang Haifeng was being beyond inappropriate. The Emperor’s body wasn’t to be lusted after.

Ji Cong turned, smiling faintly. “You have very gentle hands.”

Feeling almost like he’d gotten caught staring, Qiang Haifeng replied, “This humble subject is unworthy of the praise.”

Ji Cong walked towards a seemingly normal panel on the wall and touched the corner. The wall swung open, revealing a secret passage. “No one but me knows about this,” he said. “And now, you.”

Qiang Haifeng had to stoop a little to get in. Ji Cong shut the door behind them. “Are you sure,” Qiang Haifeng asked, “that you want to place this much trust in me, Your Majesty?”

“Would you like me to preserve my secrets by killing you after all this is over?” Ji Cong said, lighting a torch and illuminating an expression so serious that Qiang Haifeng knew he was joking.

They were in the passageway for so long that they must have put some distance between themselves and the palace by the time they emerged into a coach house.

“Let him sleep,” said Ji Cong, looking towards the stable boy dozing in a pile of hay in the corner. “He’ll be safer if he doesn’t know.”

Qiang Haifeng prepared two horses; he had a little trouble getting one of the horses to take the bit, but it decided, after a little thought on its part, not to bite him. Qiang Haifeng led the calmer horse to Ji Cong. They departed from the stable with no one the wiser, though Ji Cong left enough silver to pay for both animals behind. Qiang Haifeng grabbed an umbrella on their way out.

* * *

With the full moon lighting the way, they rode through the night. Qiang Haifeng was surprised that Ji Cong hadn’t complained even once about riding for so long, though they did take a leisurely break at a teahouse as soon as it opened.

“You look very suspicious,” Ji Cong said,

“What about me seems suspicious, Your—” Qiang Haifeng cut himself off.

Ji Cong raised an eyebrow. “You keep looking to the door. How many men do you think you could fight off at once?”

“That would depend on their skills.”

“When I was younger, I used to daydream about being forced to go on the run like this. I thought it would be exciting. But it’s really just tiring, isn’t it?”

Qiang Haifeng nodded. For a moment, Ji Cong looked very alone. He _was_ alone—Qiang Haifeng wasn’t a companion, only a servant. Ji Cong quickly brightened, and used the lid of his teacup to waft some of the tea’s scent towards him. “This tea isn’t bad.”

Qiang Haifeng sipped at his, and frowned. Shouldn’t the Emperor have better taste than this?

“I know what you’re thinking,” Ji Cong said wryly, “but it tastes better than being packed off to a distant palace for the rest of my life.” Ji Cong drummed his fingers on his knee. “I wish I could take a nap.”

They changed horses after they left the teahouse. Ji Cong always rode a little bit ahead while Qiang Haifeng held back, searching for riders on the horizon. As morning passed into the afternoon, Ji Cong became more inquisitive. He was probably trying to keep himself from falling asleep. Qiang Haifeng was asked about his lost family, his time in the Imperial Bodyguard, and even why he’d never married.

“I had other thoughts,” Qiang Haifeng replied. Ji Cong didn’t push further.

Qiang Haifeng had loved a few men in his time, though never for very long. It was true, though, that Ji Cong had often been the ‘other thought.’ Qiang Haifeng had treasured Ji Cong over the years, because he was good for the country. Getting to know Ji Cong better was just lighting a hopeless spark in his chest.

Thunder rolled in, and rain with it. Qiang Haifeng opened up the umbrella and nudged his horse next to Ji Cong’s, holding the umbrella over Ji Cong’s head while letting rain fall onto his own.

“You’re looking suspicious again,” Ji Cong said.

“Can’t I be your servant, Your Majesty?”

“You’re getting rained on.”

“I don’t mind.”

Ji Cong slowly wrapped his fingers around Qiang Haifeng’s own. Stunned, Qiang Haifeng didn’t resist when Ji Cong took the umbrella out of his hands.

“Then at least let me hold it,” Ji Cong said. “My horse is going to bite yours if you stay so close.”

* * *

When night fell and they still hadn’t reached General Shen, Ji Cong finally admitted to exhaustion. Qiang Haifeng brought him to the most reputable looking inn in the little town they were passing through. But “most reputable” was still far from somewhere Qiang Haifeng would have liked Ji Cong to be staying. The first thing Qiang Haifeng demanded was a clean mattress with a fresh quilt. Ji Cong let down his hair and collapsed on the bed the moment Qiang Haifeng deemed it acceptable.

“Aren’t you going to join me?” Ji Cong asked.

Of all the things he’d expected from Ji Cong, teasing was not among them. “I’ll sleep on the floor, Your Majesty.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Ji Cong replied, as he took off everything but his undergarments. While Qiang Haifeng was rooted to the spot, Ji Cong tucked himself under the quilt, then pulled back a corner and patted the empty space. “You need rest as much as I do.”

Qiang Haifeng had no intention of sleeping. Nevertheless, he stripped to his undergarments and climbed into bed with the Emperor. His heart was racing and his palms felt sweaty enough that they’d drench the quilt. Qiang Haifeng was in the middle of settling himself when the pin in his hair jabbed him; he’d forgotten to take it out. By the time Qiang Haifeng had loosened his hair, Ji Cong was sound asleep.

Unlike the first time Qiang Haifeng had watched Ji Cong sleep, Ji Cong looked truly relaxed. He’d pushed himself to his limits. Qiang Haifeng observed him for a little while, making sure that he was resting well. His eyes started drifting closed.

* * *

Qiang Haifeng was awakened by the feeling of someone’s arm wrapping around his waist. As he blearily opened his eyes, he realized Ji Cong had embraced him in the night. All but one part of him was panicked. If Ji Cong woke up and found himself clinging to Qiang Haifeng when Qiang Haifeng was… like _that_ , Qiang Haifeng would deserve the beheading.

Ji Cong stirred, slowly opening his eyes. Qiang Haifeng had nothing to say for himself. He waited for Ji Cong to curse him and push him away.

“Did I do this?” Ji Cong asked. Qiang Haifeng nodded.

Ji Cong still didn’t look angry. He also still hadn’t moved. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve put you in an awkward position.”

Even in the dark, Qiang Haifeng could see the start of a blush on Ji Cong’s face.

“This humble subject should be the one to apologize for—for disrespecting Your Majesty’s royal body.”

Qiang Haifeng should back away, untangle their legs and break the burning contact where Qiang Haifeng’s thigh was pressed up against Ji Cong’s.

“What if I said I didn’t mind?”

Qiang Haifeng found himself staring at the fragile line of Ji Cong’s throat, before his gaze wandered to his mouth. Something possessed Qiang Haifeng to tilt up Ji Cong’s chin. Ji Cong’s eyes widened and his breathing came faster. Did Qiang Haifeng dare? Qiang Haifeng closed the last of the distance between them, hesitating just one final moment before bringing their lips together.

Ji Cong’s hold tightened on Qiang Haifeng’s waist. Qiang Haifeng wanted to keep the kiss slow and respectful, but Ji Cong was too overwhelming. When Ji Cong sighed and parted his lips, Qiang Haifeng quickly took advantage. There was hardly any space between their bodies. Ji Cong pulled Qiang Haifeng closer.

Qiang Haifeng pushed Ji Cong down against the bed.

* * *

Morning light streamed through the paper on the windows. Qiang Haifeng slowly realized that the weight on his chest was Ji Cong’s hand, and his arm was numb from being used as a royal pillow. 

“Your Majesty, we need to move on.” Qiang Haifeng experimentally moved his arm, trying to get some feeling back.

Ji Cong grumbled and went on one elbow so he could look down at Qiang Haifeng. The night’s activities had left him looking relaxed, his hair tousled. He ran his fingers down Qiang Haifeng’s breastbone. “You’re ordering me around,” he said, arching one eyebrow. “Haifeng-gege.”

Qiang Haifeng felt himself stir again. Ji Cong laughed softly and left the bed, picking up his discarded clothes. Qiang Haifeng rose to his feet and went to help; it seemed completely natural to hold out Ji Cong’s sleeves for his arms, then to fasten his belt. Ji Cong allowed Qiang Haifeng to brush his hair before putting it up. After Ji Cong was ready, Qiang Haifeng finally attended to himself. Ji Cong watched Qiang Haifeng dress with open interest. 

They’d lingered so much longer at the inn then they’d planned to that Qiang Haifeng almost expected to see the Crown Prince’s men waiting outside the door for them. But they were still undiscovered. Qiang Haifeng and Ji Cong had a quick breakfast, then mounted their horses and left.

“We’re close,” Ji Cong said, pointing at a nearby valley. They’d been traveling long enough for the sun to be directly overhead. “General Shen should be waiting for us there.”

“And what will happen to the Crown Prince?”

“Zhi-er can cool off in exile for a few years. It’ll be good for him.” Ji Cong slowed his horse until he was side by side with Qiang Haifeng. “Where would you like to go? I thought I’d reward you for your service by making you a marquis.”

Qiang Haifeng’s heart should have soared at the thought of becoming a noble. Instead, there was only one thing he wanted.

“However this humble subject could still remain at your side, that would be best.”

“Marquis _and_ favorite?” Ji Cong smiled. “I can arrange that.”

**Author's Note:**

> The suffix ‘er’ can be an affectionate way to refer to a child. ‘Gege’ can mean elder brother, but it can also be a flirtatious way to address a man. A 'shichen' is a unit of time, around two hours.


End file.
